


Half-Kneazle and Niffler

by Farbautidottir



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Care of Magical Creatures, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures (Harry Potter), Gen, Hippogriffs, Kneazles, Nifflers, POV Hermione Granger, Research
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:00:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25690963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farbautidottir/pseuds/Farbautidottir
Summary: After Ron and Harry abandon her, Hermione takes it upon herself to research Buckbeak's defence for his and Hagrid's hearing with the Committee of Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. When she eventually hits a dead end, she writes none other than Mr. Newt Scamander for help.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Half-Kneazle and Niffler

Hermione was third in line for the weekend trip to Hogsmeade, right behind two Ravenclaw sixth years who appeared to be going on a date. She hoped Filch wouldn't find it suspicious she was there so early, but she didn't want to risk running into anyone she knew. This was unlikely, as Ron still wasn't talking to her after the disappearance of Scabbers a month ago and Harry barely had forgiven her for turning over the Firebolt to McGonagall for investigation after Christmas holidays.

Honestly, she was better off without them in many ways. With her workload this year being double the usual and the secret of the time-turner a constant albatross around her neck, she did not have time to mitigate the two boys' stubbornness and moodiness.

No, she had more important things to do. Things the boys had promised to help with and then never showed up for. She'd given up on them months ago. Hagrid's situation was too dire and time sensitive. He at least wasn't going to be sacked, but Buckbeak's life hung in the balance. She'd been researching possible supporting arguments for the Hippogriff's defence for months. Research was something she truly excelled at, and she was happy to do it for Hagrid. When her research had hit a dead end, she'd written the author of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , Newt Scamander, for help.

Filch checked off the Ravenclaws as being on the list of students approved to go to Hogsmeade and called Hermione forward with his usual scowl.

"Name?" he asked, despite that she knew for a fact he knew her from last year's incidents. It was hard to not be known schoolwide as one of the students who was petrified.

"Granger, Hermione."

Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, glowered at her through suspicious red eyes.

"Granger, Granger, Grang—there you are. All set to go." Filch marked down a little 'x' beside her name. Hermione nodded her thanks and hurried past as he grumbled, "Next!"

Heading out the castle doors into the cool early April air, she breathed a sigh of relief. The first part of leaving was done. Now she just had to go by the dementors, and she'd be free. As she started to approach the eerie black cloaks of the creatures, her ginger cat sidled up beside her.

"Oh, hello, Crookshanks," she crooned. "Are you joining me to Hogsmeade?"

Crookshanks meowed in response and kept up with her quick strides as they darted through the castle gates and beyond the reach of the dementor guards. Once well past them, she slowed to an easier pace and pulled the letter from her robes to reread it.

> Dear Miss Granger,
> 
> While I sympathize greatly with your desire to help Professor Hagrid with Buckbeak's defence, the details you will find most useful are in my unpublished manuscript, Trials and Tribulations of Magical Creatures. I regret there is only one copy, so I am unable to send you it, however I am willing to meet with you if you can take a Hogsmeade weekend. In front of the house known now as the Shrieking Shack should do best. Send me back a confirmation with the date and time, and I will be there.
> 
> Sincerely,
> 
> Mr. Newt Scamander

She'd replied to him with today's date and quarter past nine o'clock as the time. Everything was on schedule. While Hermione was not prone to superstition or old wife's tales, the Shrieking Shack wasn't exactly her idea of a great meeting spot. But if the ultimate goal was to be out of the way, then the shack would achieve it.

Crookshanks wove around her legs and Hermione relaxed. Her cat always knew how to reassure her. Sure, he was likely the cause of Scabbers' disappearance, but she refused to believe he actually ate Ron's rat. It was far more likely Scabbers simply was hiding.

She rounded the corner of the wall separating the dirt path from the village's borderline and came face to face with the dismal looking shack. It was blocked off by a large iron fence without a gate, the wind seeming to gust specifically around it causing creaks and moans from the boarded-up windows.

"Miss Granger?"

She swallowed a yelp of surprise at the appearance of an old man in basic robes. She knew Mr. Scamander would be 95, but she somehow thought he'd look more like Professor Dumbledore. He did not though. Something about him was both more youthful and more wizened at once.

"Mr. Scamander?" she asked.

"Yes, hello. Would you come with me somewhere more private to talk?" he asked without the usual pleasantries.

"Where, exactly?" Hermione asked. She paled, eyeing the Shrieking Shack. "You don't mean in there?"

"No, Dumbledore bought that house in the 1970s for a lycanthrope. I mean for us to go inside my briefcase," Mr. Scamander said as though it were a very usual request. He held up a brown leather case then set it on the ground.

Hermione's mind spun. A lycanthrope. Did he mean Professor Lupin? Did he know the professor was a werewolf? Did this mean Dumbledore knew? She'd figured it out around Christmas after research and observation, but it wasn't something you asked someone about. Certainly not if that someone was a professor.

"Miss Granger?" Mr. Scamander asked more quietly.

"Yes, sorry. The case. How exactly will we fit inside the case?"

"Quite comfortably. Come along," he said as he opened the case up. He stepped inside like how her father used to pretend to go downstairs behind the sofa when she was a girl. But this was magic, so it was real. She peered inside the case and his wrinkled hand stretched out to beckon her.

"First time for everything," Hermione muttered, scooping Crookshanks into her arms. She swallowed her fear and stepped inside the tiny open briefcase.

A solid stairwell greeted her foot and she quickly made her way down the staircase emerging into a well-worn tool shed.

"Oh good, here you are. And that must be your Kneazle, or half-Kneazle perhaps?" Mr. Scamander said.

"Sorry, sir, but what's a Kneazle?"

"Sir? No need to call me 'sir,' Miss Granger. You'll remind me of my brother." Mr. Scamander chuckled lightly then focused his attention on Crookshanks, who purred happily in Hermione's arms. "A Kneazle is a creature that can determine someone's intentions, good or bad. Very loyal creatures. They make excellent guards. I have three myself."

"Crookshanks is just a cat," Hermione said, glancing at the bushy tailed cat.

"I'm quite sure he's not. See his lionlike qualities in the face and the tail? No, he's definitely some part Kneazle. Where did you get him?"

"Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley."

Mr. Scamander's mouth puckered in distaste. "Well, no matter, he's certainly in capable hands with you."

"Is that a bad shop?"

"Oh, it's fine. The shop owner, Madam Ailurophile, and I don't quite see eye to eye on caring for magical creatures in captivity. But let's discuss Professor Hagrid's Hippogriff, Buckbeak."

Mr. Scamander led them out of the shed and into the outdoors. Only they were still in the case. At least Hermione thought they were still in the case.

"How is this possible? Is it like in the Great Hall?" she asked, looking all around at the vast blue sky above a thicket of trees. Crookshanks leapt from her arms to go explore.

"It's a modified Extension Charm my mum taught me and I've perfected over the years," Mr. Scamander explained. "She raised Hippogriffs. That's what got me interested in magical creatures, helping her."

"So, you must know them well? That they're not dangerous unless provoked. You could testify on Buckbeak's behalf!" Hermione exclaimed.

"No, no, that's not possible. I've never met Buckbeak, plus the Ministry…" He looked away, up into the cloudless sky. His eyes changed focus as though something approached them, and Hermione saw it was a Hippogriff landing through the trees.

"The Ministry what?" she pressed.

"They don't listen to people like me," Mr. Scamander said, but his focus was entirely on the Hippogriff. He gave a low bow and Hermione took several steps backwards so the Hippogriff wouldn't find her threatening.

The Hippogriff returned the bow and then approached Mr. Scamander with ease. Its beak dipped into the old wizard's pocket for food.

Mr. Scamander pushed it away gently. "Now, Miles, you can't expect food every time you see me."

Miles let out a huff.

"Miles was also put on trial by the Committee of Disposal of Dangerous Creatures," Mr. Scamander explained to Hermione.

"What happened?"

"Some wizards tried to ride him, and he defended himself. One was in St. Mungo's for almost a year afterwards," he said. "They wanted to execute him, but I was able to negotiate taking him on."

"Could you take on Buckbeak if it comes to that?" Hermione said hopefully.

"It depends on Hagrid, I'm afraid. On how he presents his case at the hearing. Which is what you're here for, isn't it?"

Mr. Scamander gave Miles a pat on his haunches and he wandered into the woods. Hermione followed along as Mr. Scamander marched towards another room inside the case. The temperature shifted to something subtropical and Mr. Scamander murmured, "Don't look in the water."

Hermione glanced at the water and saw a glowing pair of eyes watching them through the murky liquid. A matching gemstone appeared between the eyes and two sets of horns emerged from the surface like moving logs as the creature swam alongside them.

"I said don't look."

"Sorry," Hermione murmured, tearing her eyes away from the creature.

"She's a Horned Serpent, but she's not very happy with me right now."

Mr. Scamander's tone informed her not to ask questions, and, despite her curiosity, Hermione stayed quiet. They passed into another room that was full of snow. Hermione shivered and happily followed Mr. Scamander into the tiny shack at the other end of the space.

Inside it was warm. A fire lit up the shack, which contained an endless bookcase and long table like you might find in a library. Hermione felt right at home.

"This is my study. I've pulled the manuscript for you. It's just there." He pointed at a thick stack of parchment on the table.

Hermione slid into the chair in front of it, glancing at the cover's beautiful script that spelled out as promised: _Trials and Tribulations of Magical Creatures_.

"Your handwriting is lovely," she remarked. "Is there a place I should begin?"

"Miles' trial is found on page 46."

Hermione carefully turned over the pieces of parchment until coming to the right page and Mr. Scamander disappeared into the depths of his study.

Hermione relaxed as she began to read. It was honestly easier to go it alone when it came to research. Everyone else seemed to lack the unique skillset she possessed in quickly narrowing down probable options and scouring the text for information. Oftentimes a tiny footnote led to the relevant information, and that moment when things connected was one of Hermione's favorite things in life.

This text proved no different. A footnote about the source Mr. Scamander had used in justifying Miles' use of self-defense led her to his bookshelves, scouring for what turned out to be a thick tome of legal hearings. There was nothing like this in the Hogwarts library, not even in the restricted section. She relished the novelty of such a book being accessible to her for a full moment before opening it to the right page. There it was in the form of a case from 1937—justification for Buckbeak.

"Oh, you found the source book already. That was fast," Mr. Scamander said, startling Hermione from the dry legalese. He set down a tray of tea. "My sister-in-law always said tea helps people think, so I made you some."

"Thank you," Hermione replied, beaming. "I think I found what I need!"

"Oh, should I see you out then?" Mr. Scamander asked awkwardly, looking at the tea with what appeared to be disappointment and confusion.

"Oh, no, I still need to write up my findings for my notes." Hermione smiled and set the heavy book down beside the manuscript.

Mr. Scamander nodded knowingly and began to pour the tea.

The moment Hermione sat back down, there was a flurry of orange fur and a loud exchange of hissing and squeals. A clank and crash followed, brown liquid flooding across the table from the now shattered teapot and cups.

"No! Crookshanks, no!" Hermione cried, grabbing him away from the strange platypus-looking creature that now scurried towards Mr. Scamander.

"I told you to stay away from my guests," Mr. Scamander scolded the creature.

"Oh no! Your manuscript!" Hermione exclaimed in horror. The parchment was soaked with tea, the ink bleeding, and the entirety of it ruined.

"Oh, dear," was all Mr. Scamander said, his brow furrowed. He pulled out his wand and levitated the legal book up away from the spilt tea. Once it was safely back on the shelf, he cleaned the rest of the mess with a quick swish of his wand.

"I'm so sorry! Crookshanks only ever has attacked one other creature before, my friend's rat. And now he won't even speak to me! And my other best friend won't talk to me either because I was trying to protect him from a hexed racing broom that wasn't even hexed!" Hermione cried. "And now I've ruined your manuscript just like I've ruined everything else!"

She burst into tears.

"Oh, please don't cry. It's all right," Mr. Scamander said, giving her an awkward pat on the shoulder.

"Nothing is all right. I'm behind in all my classes and I can barely keep up even with the time-turner! I'm just a big failure and now I'm going to fail Hagrid, too. And I've just failed you!" Hermione sobbed. Crookshanks snuggled against her chest, purring loudly to try to calm her. She couldn't stop crying though. It was all flooding out at once. Everything was horrible and it was all her fault.

"You haven't failed me. The manuscript is unpublished because everyone rejected it. No one cares about magical creatures' wellbeing. No one except people like me and Professor Hagrid…and people like you, Miss Granger," Mr. Scamander said softly. He sat beside her, still coaxing the platypus-like creature.

"What is that?" Hermione sniffled.

"It's a Niffler. But you said something about a time-turner?"

"Oh." The blood drained from Hermione's face. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone."

She felt for the device against her chest and her panic multiplied exponentially.

"It's gone! I've lost it."

"Your time-turner?"

"Yes!" She stood abruptly, wiping her face so she could see properly to look for it.

"Was it golden? Shiny?"

"Yes, yes, exactly. Do you see it?"

Mr. Scamander was smirking, and Hermione became worried he'd stolen it. What if she couldn't trust him? No one even knew she was here. His eyes were on the Niffler though, and he grabbed it by the hind legs and held it upside down while shaking it vigorously. Several galleons fell out of the creature's front pouch, clinking on the table. He kept shaking it and more things came out, including the exact number of British pounds that Hermione had in her coin purse, and finally, to Hermione's extreme relief, the time-turner dropped to the table.

"Well, there we are!" Mr. Scamander said brightly as he handed it to her. "This Muggle money might be yours, too?"

Hermione fumbled open her coin purse and found it empty. "Yes, it is. And the galleons, I'm afraid."

"Well, Crookshanks certainly is loyal to you." Mr. Scamander smiled at him.

"You're not mad at me?" Hermione whispered.

"What would I be mad at you for?"

"For ruining the manuscript and Crookshanks attacking your Niffler."

"He's just doing his job of protecting you. Just like the Niffler was only doing what he's prone to—collecting shiny items."

"It just seems everyone is mad at me." Hermione sighed.

"I promise, it will get better. Your friends will get over it if they're truly your friends. And if not, then at least you have Crookshanks. Never underestimate any creature, no matter how insignificant they seem. But you already know this, Miss Granger. You aren't like most of the people I meet."

"What do you mean?"

"You care about all life. You're using your skills to help, not harm. The world needs more people like you."

Hermione sniffled out a murmured, "Thanks."

"Now, let's make some more tea. Tina, my wife, always says that tea helps people feel better. Then you can finish up your notes and I'll help you with anything you needed that was in the manuscript," Mr. Scamander said, standing up.

Hermione smiled weakly and nodded. "That sounds nice."


End file.
